A Rebellion of Thy Self
by AniBlaire
Summary: In the 25th century, only one survives, a sliver of what he was, can he bring knowledge to the slaves?


A Rebellion of the Self

Clayton Bryant and Blaire Ryan

Prologue

_When I was fourteen, I met the man I would later know as my father. That one incident, that one mind-blowing slap of reality, changed my life, changed the world, forever. _

_I was not the only one to have their life altered. Four others, my friends, the love of my life received their curse of life's responsibilities, the responsibilities of an adult, when we were still children. _

_We fought, god, we fought. I may have paid the heaviest price of all, a price that entailed not only entrapment, but loss of the one thing that made me who I was, my humanity. Nearly, I gave in to the animal, the cry to be set free. Though my friend, he saved my life, and another; she saved my soul. _

_My life was returned, for two hours at a time. Two small hours, or a life of ignorance. If I chose to be ignorant, I would live, and with the girl that had stolen my heart. I would live with my love, but I would no longer be able to protect her. _

_So I chose the life of a savior, living short bursts of freedom, protecting my love and every other person that I cared for. _

_It took me more than a year to realize it, but when I was no longer clouded in ignorance, I wished that I still had been. I would live the life of eternal youth, never dying of age, never growing old. I lived the life of a change in genetic structure, two lives of genetic engineering, neither ever growing old. _

_My love, she would grow old and die, mature to adulthood, be able to bare children, but it could never be with me. I would forever live as a fourteen year old child, never reaching maturity, never experiencing what I most craved: death. _

_I discovered this, as my love and I were to become lovers, but I could not. I did not accept that I could never have a normal existence, and so when my love pledged herself to me, I rejected her, and ran. I could not face the look of pain on my true love's face as I spat the truth. I could never find happiness. I could never live, without knowing I had death. _

_A night later, it ended. Each bitter, uncooperative, our quest to stop the enemy, the parasite, the controllers, ended in disaster. With my very eyes, I saw her, the genetic mutation, one of Earth's most powerful beasts, taken down by a single hand. She was not dead, her body unconscious, laying on the floor. That moment, I realized what I had done, what I had done to her, and dove. _

_What a child I was, how stupid, how rash. I was captured, held above my dying love, as her heart, slowing beating, was near the verge of ceasing. She was brought into consciousness, aware of me being held at ready, to see her slaughter. She had extended the limit of the genetic change, and now, her life had expired along with her ability to regain her humanity. _

_My enemy, the slayer of my father, stood at ready. Using implements of torture, he removed her heart, as I was held, crying, swearing, praying. Then she was dead. Never again to take a breath of life. _

_For three straight unending days, I did nothing but scream inanities and obscenities, until I was forced to feed intravenously. When the days were over, I stopped, I stopped talking, stopped screaming, stopped living. I would never live without her. _

__Part One

Chapter One ...Of the twenty-three pools on Terra, seventy-percent were named using ancient human tongues such as English and Spanish. Though not a language made for the human tongue, hosts became mostly proficient in Garish, with their yeerk's having mastered the language when just grubs, connecting to the neural links to download knowledge directly into their brains.

...No human had ever experienced a neural link, not since the class of voluntary hosts had been abolished in the early days of the occupation. Up until then, humans were taught everything they would need to know for the rest of their lives in an instantaneous burst of electrons. That was a good way to teach the children of the still free humans, who told stories of freedom, of living outside of the ships and the pools. The early hosts were not taught much, just how to read, use the computers, at least the voluntary hosts were. The rest, they were only taught to read and speak. 

...The voluntary controllers though, were let to roam the pools free, able to watch the remains of the human videos, the ones kept on disks forty times larger than a yeerk hard drive. After half a century, though, it was no longer worth the resources. None of the hosts remembered what the word 'voluntary' meant anymore. Humans never knew anything but yeerk servitude. To be free was not even a fantasy, it was something not imagined.

...There had been no rebellious yeerks in over four centuries, not since the last of the morph capable humans were slaughtered. To believe that by wiping out the human opposition, that it would quell their own species' need for absolution was the Yeerk's biggest naiveté, to believe that there would never be an uprising, was idiocy. For one-hundred years, since the birth of a yeerk who not only could not handle taking control of a human individual, but had the courage to stand up for what he believed in. After convincing others, the rebellion was begun. At first, the rebels never did anything but watch, and wait. They were much easier on their hosts, never barking at the stupidity of those who had been born into bondage, just used them and mostly stayed silent. Then after three quarter centuries of empty-promises to do what was needed, a single yeerk did what no one else dared: she released control. 

- El Biblioteca de ZACXEL

I felt to my side, making sure the dracon weapon was still there. It was, just like the last twenty-seven times I had checked. My palms were burning, my knees scraped raw, but I continued my crawl towards the Pool _Bandit's Vivisection. _Apparently, the name had had some significance when the Yeerks had named it, but I only spoke Garish and Ancient Spanish, unfortunately more than most, and had no idea what 'Bandit' or 'Vivisection' meant. If I had, it probably would have sent a shiver down my spine, most of the Yeerk names were like that. 

I shuddered, thinking about what I had been told the Sulp Niar Pool had meant in Gedd. Mostly, pool names described the death or torture of a rebel, and all had gory deaths. 

I dragged my mind back to my current situation, which I realized was a mistake. My shoulder had sliced open by a jagged rock minutes before, and the blood covering my bare arm was a disturbing site in the dim light of my lumination cell. 

Sighing, I stopped and took a small cloth and adhesive bandage out of the bag strapped to my back. Unfortunately, I had no disinfectant if the bandage was faulty. 

Though the small tunnel I resided in had no light, I was able to make due with the light of the index finger-sized surplus lantern, all that I was able to procure. I had to erase all traces of blood from my skin, if I didn't, when I reached the pool there would be questions. I couldn't answer questions now, especially since I'd be vulnerable to a neural scan. 

After I had finished the painful wiping of my blood with the dry cloth, I took the small, fingernail-sized bandage, which automatically spread apart and held itself to the skin on contact. Hopefully the sonic and chemical mixtures the bandage was inserting into my bloodstream would allow the gash to heal by the time I reached the pool, otherwise I would have to spend several hours inside the tunnel waiting. 

The only time I would be able to enter the pool was when the energy-deflectors surrounding the officer's quarters would be dropped for cleaning bots. At the pace I was going, I would not have to wait probably no more than five minutes, but if I was late, it would be another eight hours before the doors opened again. I could not waste away for that long, my contact would not wait nearly that amount of time, I knew. 

Rebel fighting for a good cause or no, the people I was working with weren't the most noble creatures in the known galaxy. Like all yeerks, symbiosis or nay, they had the survival instinct of an animal who evolved from a main food staple. Not many yeerks would put their necks on the line to help me. 

I continued the crawl, going for a mile on an upwards slope, before reaching an area that had obviously been leveled at one point, and the tunnel pointed drastically downward. I swore a newly learned Dacas curse word. It spoke of the sexual preference of whoever created this tunnel, but that was all I had been told, the mercenary trader wouldn't tell me the exact translation. Apparently, even the pirates that I dealt with had standards, or so they wished us to believe. Not bloody likely. 

It took me until ten minutes before the deflector would be dropped to reach my destination. It was a lot closer than I wished to come, knowing that any number of variables could spoil my plans. 

I removed the clothing I had been wearing to crawl through the tunnels, which consisted of controller surplus pants, and a sleeveless undershirt; what remained of my uniform. Too much skin was shown, I knew I couldn't possibly wear that in a yeerk facility. There were strict taboos among the yeerk hierarchy against it. 

In the late 23rd century, it was discovered that many yeerks were consummating while in their hosts, which was obviously treasonous behavior. Many a yeerk was put to death, many were tortured. Since that point, it was risky to wear the least revealing clothing. One might be accused of trying to relieve sexual frustration by luring a male or female into copulation. 

So I put on a new uniform. Really, they weren't much better than the revealing clothes. The uniform consisted of a one piece jumpsuit, light blue and white colored, with small identifying marks that would tell another controller what rank and pool I belonged to, also saying I was female for any yeerk that did not know the difference between the Terran sex, which was nearly all of them off the planet. They were tailored by computer to fit like they were painted on, and the white and blue material on pale human skin gave an angelic-looking quality. It wasn't revealing, there was no skin, but every curve of the body was shown. 

Thinking about how tight the uniform fit made me realize how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten in over thirty-six hours, and the last time I had, I was hurried, and only received a small portion of the nutritional supplement. I hadn't had the opportunity to even eat the synthesized protein portion that I had been promising myself that I was going to eat. I didn't particularly like the meat substitute, but ever since _It_ happened, I hadn't been doing everything that was good for me. Darron would not be happy with me. I was not only pale from hunger, but I was nearing an anorexic weight. 

I sighed, I would have to get something to eat on the next shift, once I got into the officer's quarters of the pool. Making sure I had no exposed skin, and the uniform had all the latest markings, I sat silently and waited. 

When I heard the click of the energy shields being deactivated, I crawled down out of the cloaked tunnel entrance, into the hallways inhabited only by the foot tall utility bots, one of the only yeerk robotics without cameras attached. I resisted the urge to bring my foot down on the top of one, knowing it would just call attention to the hall, which I really didn't need. 

Walking the length of the corridor as if I had done so a dozen times before, until I reached my destination. 

The access door to the Neural Procedures looked like it needed several acid cleanings before it even could be taken to the garbage center. It looked centuries old, and I wondered if it had been around since the pool had been created in the twentieth century. It was disgusting. I couldn't really be picky though, this room couldn't have been used since before I was born. I checked the chronometric measurement pad that I had seen when walking towards the door. I'd need to get a new band, but I couldn't risk the electromagnetic signals setting of sensor's above ground while I was in the tunnels. I was still seven minutes early for the meeting with my contact. 

I knew it was dangerous to be in the corridors, especially while I had no orders to be in the facility yet. I also knew though, that going into the Neural Procedures room was a small, small risk. If there was someone in there, a maintenance person maybe, then I could be in deep. 

"What are you worried about, this door hasn't been used in ages," I whispered to myself, strangely calming myself down. I must be going crazy, I thought _silently_ this time. 

I stepped up to the door, and strangely, it slid easily and quietly open. I had thought the room hadn't been opened in decades, but apparently I was wrong. 

Sitting in the room with his back turned to me was a man that looked fifteen or sixteen terran years, wearing not the Terran-Controller uniform that I had donned, but something much different. His clothing was what looked like synthetic herd animal skin, possibly polytriurathane, and it had a black sheen that looked like it had never been worn before. His sight was intimidating, and he wasn't even looking at me yet. 

I was going to try to make a break for it, and then he turned. 

Chapter II

I could smell the salty tang of ocean air, hear the cries of birds skimming above the water, and almost taste the hot dogs being cooked on the beach-side grills. Looking around, surveying the seaside of my youth, I felt the temporary contented aura surround me. 

Walking barefoot into the surf, the tingle of cool sea water on my feet, reminded me of a time that could never be again. A time with _her_. I looked up into the sky, the azure fields of Terra's gasses, the puffy white clouds, I felt infinite bliss. 

There were no people around me, that was the only detail that matched the real world. No human would be free to play on the beach, even if there were such things, and not the vast expanse of cities that spanned nearly the entire North American continent, housing the fifteen billion Terran-Controllers. Or, it was a desert that extended miles into what was once the ocean, and not brownish-gray sludge. 

I must have been jacked in for more than forty-minutes, much too long, when I heard the door open in the real world. Tapping the touch pad on the remote workstation, I took a breath. The horrid stench of recycled, recirculated oxygen bit my nose as I came back to reality. The never-used Neural Procedures room was a place I'd never expected to get bumped into by a "fellow soldier", but now I guess my luck had run out. Not that it mattered to me anymore. 

I turned around with a blank expression on my face. To my surprise, and near delight, I did not confront a sturdy-faced Hork-Bajir, Senon, or any other species of the many controllers, but a Terran-Controller female that looked horrified. Obviously, she wasn't supposed to be here any more than I was. I smiled a sadistic smile that I knew was perfectly intimidating. 

The girl gulped, and I knew I had caught the perfect fly in my web. Not many things got off on me anymore, but screwing with these green controller's minds was the next best thing to jacking in to neural databases. No, not really, but it was still enjoyable to my hollow soul. 

"Soldier! What are you doing in here?" He asked staring daggers at her. She squirmed uncomfortably, and he forced back another smile. 

"I, I am just... checking the logs of the last few neural uploads... sir," she said, twisting her fingers around eachother, showing her nervousness. 

Her comment brought me to a realization, though. She may not be nervous because she wasn't supposed to be here. Maybe the Yeerk was just not used to dealing with- that would mean that she would be taking the records of the neural uploads, I would not be in a good position. I knew I could not let her finish what she was here to do. 

I sighed silently, knowing how much I was going to hate this. Not only did it make me extremely uncomfortable, it was hard to cover up. 

Reaching behind me I hit the door lock. She heard the hiss of air as the door clamps shut, and the look of horror on her face intensified. I approached her, taking a steady stride, my arms raising slightly, more and more as I approached her. 

She began backing up as far as she could, and when she hit her backside against the door, I quickly closed the gap between us, grabbing her arms in my grip. Trying to struggle out of my grip and reach the palm sized dracon at her size, she brought a knee up trying to hit me in the groin. 

This first hint caught me off guard slightly. Terrans had not been taught how to fight other Terrans in more than a couple centuries, not since the last of the human rebels were wiped out. How could she know the sensitive points in the Terran- 

My thought train was stopped when one of the girl's hands broke free of my grip and knocked me in the face. Using my own skull as a bludgeon, I slammed it into the controller's face. She stumbled back against the wall again and I held her back against the wall, while using my free hand to hold her wrists. 

"Don't touch me! You have rules against these! Let alone a superior officer with a... with me!" She yelled, trying to struggle away. 

I was confused for a moment, and when the realization hit, I burst out laughing. The idea was ludicrous! She thought I was going to have sex with her! I was about to kill her, and she thought I was going to have sex with her. My laughs were haughty and loud. 

She looked at me like I was insane, and when I calmed enough, I managed to cough out "I," I laughed again, "I wasn't going to have sex with you! I was," it was amazing, the first real laugh I'd had in over four centuries, "going to kill you." 

She looked at me with udder shock. Then the thought hit me. Over the centuries, I'd seen Yeerks in the situation where they could have sex, and never once, even after the ban was declared, had one refused. It was too much of a temptation. A Yeerk would never feel pleasure during copulation. They would mate, and then die. Though while in a Terran body, the parasite could feel every sensation, experience every feeling that the human did. It had become a near myth over the years. Something of discussion in the trenches, in the messes of ships. Every yeerk wanted to try it, but the chance never arose. Though this was the perfect opportunity, and had I been intending to consummate, we would have been able to do it easily, with no risks. 

This was something he had never expected to see again. This was either someone being watched, thinking this a setup, but the more probable, but still hard to believe may have been true: she was not a controller. 

I released her immediately and backed up. Her face now turned to shock. She was probably thinking, what the hell is he doing? 

"What is going on?" She whispered, noting me sitting down hard on the chair, the solemn look that plastered my face always, returning. 

I looked straight at her, she was not reaching for her dracon, though she should've. That just proved what I had thought even better. She didn't have the yeerk survival instinct. I reached behind me again, bringing up the data-files for the MIA controllers in the last year. I narrowed the search down to Terra, and got a list of fifteen. Scanning through the pictures being sent into my brain by the neural transceiver, while still keeping my eyes on the girl, I found what I was looking for. 

"Darron 1853, why are you here? What is your order code?" I asked, pretending I did not suspect what I now nearly knew. 

The girl looked at me stunned for a moment, then tried to find words, mumbling something about orders not coming in yet. 

She was trying to spit something out about being here to upload the files, like she already told me, when I cut her off, "Aré Henzen, of the breeding facility New Erze, what are_ you_ doing here?" 

She stumbled around for a moment, her words not coming, and then she started to get straight faced, fixing her posture, "Why do you refer to me as my host name, my name is Darron 1853 of the _Boston Massacre Pool,_ I-" She tried to continue but I cut her off. 

"You," I began, "you are no controller. Not any more than I am a Visser. Controllers do not go missing for weeks at a time, with no ships, no supplies, and still live. You know as well as I do, that does not work. You are a rebel, because I know you are no symbiant. A symbiant may have relinquished control somewhat, but they still have the survival instinct. You could have pulled the dracon on me at any time I was sitting here, and yet-" I got up sprinted towards her as she began to reach for the weapon, knocking it out of her hand and holding her wrists and back against the wall again. "you did not even think of it until now. No Yeerk would be that careless. I haven't seen such in centuries." 

She took in what I was saying with obvious inattention, "I'm a fellow compatriot in arms! I'm not-" she stopped herself, realizing finally what I said, "What? Centuries? Terrans do not live centuries..." She lost her train of speech when she became lost in thought, her face contorted with concentration. 

I let her think, and then she looked up, "No. The stories, they can't be true? You can't be him?" 

Letting a small smirk play on my lips for a second, she's finally getting it, I humor her, "Stories? What stories? Tell me about the stories?" 

She looked at me like I was an idiot, how could I not know the stories? she began, "Well, I, I heard these when my, my Yeerk was still in training. I was a new controller, still getting used to the duty," she saw my face contort when she said duty. It always bothered me when humans told me it was their "duty" to be a host to the yeerks. That they provided food and shelter for them for a dozen years, so they would be ready to serve their Yeerk "saviors". 

She continued, "I was let into a cage, the very first pool cage I'd been in. It was not bad, there were the chairs for us to sit on, and a table in case our Yeerk left us with food," she breathed easier when I loosened my grip somewhat. 

"There was a group of unmated Terrans, off to the corner. They had put the chairs in a small circle and were talking. They told me to come over, the eldest, going to be mated in just a few days, was telling stories he'd heard when meeting the other, older Terran males at the joining facility," she took a breath when I tightened my grip a little bit. Talk of mating, it always reminded me of... her. 

"Go on," I said. 

"Well, he told us stories about a man, a boy, looking fourteen, fifteen Terran years old, who was centuries old. By some Yeerk superpower, he was kept alive for more than four-hundred years, so he could suffer for the crimes he committed. He, he could change shape, become other... things. He had lost his true love to our masters, back before our ancestors had accepted their benevolent rule," she seemed to spit the last sentence out, obviously not believing it any more than I did. "He had to stay in by a yeerk pool, no one was sure which one, because he never was seen by the controllers, he kept to himself, made to suffer in solitude, to be eaten by guilt because he let his love die a-" she stopped when I gripped her arms so tight she was becoming numb. She looked into my face, plastered with pain. 

"Stop," she gasped, "Your.... your hurting me," she said between breaths. I had her pressed up against the wall and was cutting off her air. 

I released her instantly, remorse apparent on my face. "I'm sorry, I didn't," I muttered. Stepping back again, trying not to trip over the control chair I had moved so I could look at her when she first came in. 

She looked at me a little surprised, and then shocked again, "You are him, god! I can't believe the stories are true! I mean, I just can't believe that you are four-hundred and fifty years old!" She seemed giddy, like schoolgirls that I remembered from centuries past. 

I was pulling back into my shell. Here I was, hurting the first free girl I'd met in more years than I cared to remember. How typical of myself. I kicked myself mentally again. I was hurting her, just like I heart my dear Rachel. 

Aré noticed me zoning out again, and she said, "What is your name? What kind of names did they have in the twentieth century?" 

"My name," I breathed, "Is Tobias." 

Author's Note: So, do I finish it? Is it finishworthy? What do you think? I lust for feedback! So please, please tell me what you think! I've written a little more than this, but this gets the main point of the beginning of the fic across. This story, if finished, will span over a century, and signal the end of an era. So review, and I love when you put your email so I can talk about it with you! Thanks for listening to my rambling. 

Note on name: Aré, or if you can't see it clearly, is A R E with an accent over the E, pronounced Ar-ee 


End file.
